


Catch This

by Darkknightsrevenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Height difference, Injured Harry, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Professional Quidditch, Protective Oliver, Puddlemere United, Quidditch, Quidditch Injuries, Rimming, Shower Sex, Switch Harry, Teammates to Lovers, Top Oliver, Unprotected Sex, teammates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkknightsrevenge/pseuds/Darkknightsrevenge
Summary: Training for the League Cup is going disastrously for Puddlemere United. After one particularly bad practice, Harry finds himself in the showers with his Captain Oliver Wood, getting help with his latest round of injuries. Things get steamy, and Harry can't help but want more.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Oliver Wood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

Harry trooped in to the Puddlemere United showers, feeling absolutely miserable. His blue and gold Quidditch robes dripped on the ground and he could barely see from the mud he was drenched in. His neck ached from the face-first slide he'd just completed across the muddy quidditch pitch. He'd spent some time practicing the move again, trying to blow off steam while the others showered, once Wood had gotten through with yelling himself hoarse about how crappily they'd just practiced. It was like Hogwarts Quidditch days all over again.

Yeah, they got it, their next league match was in two days. If they won against the Arrows, they'd lead the league going into the playoffs and actually have a shot at the league cup. In the four years Oliver Wood had been on Puddlemere United, they'd narrowly missed the top of the bracket each time. Since he'd become Captain the year previous, he had been on a personal mission to get the League Cup at any cost. It was just like the house cup for him.

Unfortunately for Oliver, the weather had been abysmal all week and there was no spark left in the team running up to game day. Harry didn't have an answer for it, at least not one Wood wanted to hear. And he didn't even want to look Oliver in the eyes after the stupid fumbles he'd made all day with the snitch.

Harry noticed one shower was still on while he pulled off his arm and shin pads, probably Wood trying to drown himself again. That hadn't changed a bit. It made Harry's stomach flip guiltily, but there wasn't much he'd be able to do about it.

He hissed in pain as he slid his shoulder pads up and off himself. He'd taken a budger to the back that he'd thought hadn't hurt much, but it was all catching up to him. The water in the next room shut off and Harry kept his eyes on the floor as the sound of bare feet padded out of the stalls.

"Harry? What're you still doin' here?" Wood's Scottish burr came from the doorway.

"Nothing, Wood. Just waiting till everyone's out so I can have some quiet."

"Is somethin' the matter?"

"Er, no. Just tired."

Harry let his eyes flit up to Wood's, the keeper was staring down his nose at him.

"I'm not an idiot, Potter. You look like you've just been dragged around the pitch by the nose and kicked for good measure."

"You saw that slide and bludger I took, yeah? Same difference."

"You took a bludger? Where?" Wood asked, his hazel eyes suddenly dark and worried.

"Between the shoulders, honestly, it's nothing..." Harry coughed, his breath hitching in pain.

"Let me see." Wood demanded.

"You mean, like..."

"Yes, Potter. Take it off."

Harry obeyed, trying to pull his shirt up, but his stiffening shoulders wouldn't allow for the movement to happen.

"I need help. I can't..."

Oliver gently rolled up the edge of Harry's shirt until the bruise revealed itself. The pads had taken most of the impact but there was still a generous mark.

"Let's get you in the shower. Hot water will do you some good." Wood said matter-of-factly. He helped Harry out of his shirt and the rest of his robes, going for the band of his drawers before Harry stopped him.

"Hold on, I can do that myself. I'm not a little kid." He said.

"Right, right. Sorry, Potter."

Wood helped him stand up and supported him into the shower stall. Harry's stiffened back made it hard to move right.

"Merlin's beard, I fucked myself royally." Harry swore. "It was just a bludger and a fall, what even..."

"Does your neck hurt?" Oliver asked.

"Only a little." Harry replied. "Trying to catch the snitch with your face does that to a player."

In spite of himself, Wood let a little chuckle loose as he turned the hot water on. He leaned against the doorway, eyes fixed on the back wall of the showers.

"As long as you don't have a concussion. If I lose another player to St. Mungo's, I'll-"

"-Eat your broom, I know." Harry finished, taking his glasses off and setting them on the soap rack.

"...I said that earlier, didn't I. I sound like such an insufferable prat."

"Prat? No. Insufferable, maybe..." Harry replied. "You could lighten up a little, we're dying out there."

"What does that mean?" Oliver bristled.

"Look, Wood. You don't have to push so hard. The team knows they're doing a bad job of it, and they're going to turn it around in time. Maybe just lay off the pressure a little as we come up to the game so everyone can problem-solve themselves and get into it? Support a little more?"

Wood was silent, making Harry think he'd gone too far, but he couldn't see the Keeper's face without his glasses on.

"Erm, sorry. I just was thinking off the top of my head. You're the captain, you make the decisions."

"No, Harry. You've a point. I guess in my desperation, I lose track of what's important. Thank you."

"Erm, no problem."

The shower room was quiet except for the running water, Harry put his head under the spray to gather his thoughts for a moment. When he emerged, Wood was speaking again.

"-en a right awful git, Harry. I don't think about anything but quidditch and it shows. I'm nigh on the worst captain this team has seen. Charlie would be disappointed in me if I told him in my letters."

"Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?" Harry asked. "You can make mistakes without being the worst captain in history. Remember that they still let the Cannons play."

Wood snorted. "No idea why. Their captain doesn't know which way is up on a broom."

"Exactly. You don't need to be so harsh on yourself- Oh, bloody hell!" Harry yelped as he reached his arms up to soap his hair. His shoulders twinged in pain.

"Here, get the water a little hotter." Oliver said, reaching over and turning the knob. Harry hissed as the scalding water hit him. He reached out for where he thought the soap rack was to re-soap his hands, but his hand connected with Oliver's warm chest.

"Oh, erm. Sorry. I can't see." Harry mumbled.

"Here, let me get it." Oliver replied. Harry heard the sound of him lathering his hands, then gentle fingers began to comb through his ebony hair.

The shower was silent as Oliver worked the soap into his messy hair, standing close enough Harry could feel the heat radiating off of him. Harry had never been this close to Oliver before. Sure they'd been in the showers at the same time loads of times before, but not in the same stall, not like this. He wasn't opposed, he hadn't been touched in any way in what felt like ages, but he had no clue what he should be doing either.

"Want me to stop?" Oliver asked, noticing his silence.

"What? No, I'm fine. I just haven't had anyone do this before. It feels nice."

"Famous Harry Potter has never had a witch climb in the shower and show him a little worship in all your nineteen years?" Wood teased. "Seems hard to believe."

"Not really. I'm not really good with romance, or, people in general for that matter. It's the famous part that gets in the way. And I'm eighteen still, my birthday is Saturday." Harry replied. He shifted uncomfortably. Every game, wizards and witches lined up to get his autograph, causing a bit of a weird dynamic with the others on the team. Harry didn't like it much, they were only interested in him for his name. Same with the people he'd bring back to his flat for an awkward quick shag. They just wanted the honor of shagging the famous Harry Potter.

"Sorry." Wood said gently, turning Harry so his back was to him and he could work on the back of his hair. "I didn't mean it like that." He began to circle his thumbs down the back of Harry's neck. "Your birthday is the day of the big game? That's some shite luck, I'm sure you wanted to be out celebrating-" Harry cut him off with a yelp as a sore spot twinged.

"Got a bruise going here, Potter." Oliver said, inspecting the spot.

"I hit the stands at one point. I practiced like a load of dung today." Harry replied morosely.

"I saw the dive you made after the team talk, that one was all right." Oliver offered. He massaged down to the base of Harry's neck and moved to go after the tight muscles in his shoulders.

"Yeah, but you missed the one right after where the wind caught me at the bottom and I bounced into the photographer's pit. I'm lucky I didn't break my neck on the bench."

"Merlin's beard!" Oliver exclaimed. "Do you know how to be careful, Potter? You're the only capable seeker I have. If you break your neck out there, I'll have to put Bran in, and he's hopeless. Doesn't know a snitch from a quaffle."

"Sorry, Wood. I was off my game today. These next couple days I'll work on my nerves and be ready for the game."

"There's that Gryffindor spirit." Oliver said warmly. He gently turned Harry to him, and before Harry knew what was happening, he'd pressed their lips together.

"Oh-" Harry gasped in surprise. He was cut off by Wood renewing the kiss, pressing their lips together even harder. Harry's back hit the wall of the shower with a wet thud, making him moan in both pain and surprise as the cold, wet tiles hit his bruised back. He scrambled his hands to Oliver's shoulders, pulling the bigger man so they were flush against each other, shower cascading down over their heads. Harry eagerly chased Oliver's lips with his own, nipping and sucking at his mouth.

"Oliver..." Harry panted when Wood pulled back for air.

"Potter..." The older man growled. "Fancy a go at it? Now?"

"Y-yes." Harry gasped in reply. Oliver's lips were back on his in an instant, knocking his head back into the tiles. He barely noticed, feeling Wood's body pinning him to the wall. Oliver was all muscle, eclipsing Harry's smaller frame. He could feel Oliver's hard-on pressing into his stomach, moaning when Oliver gripped both their cocks in one hand, giving an experimental tug. Harry had never felt anything quite like it, between the warm water and the sensation of Oliver's larger hand squeezing their lengths together.

"You done this before, Potter?" Wood groaned as he fisted them, barely pulling away from Harry's swollen lips.

"Y-yeah. A few times." Harry gasped in reply.

"Top or bottom?" Oliver asked.

"B-both, ah-!" Harry yelped as Oliver attacked his neck, suckling at a sensitive spot.

"Well, well..." Oliver purred. "Potter's gotten around." He turned Harry around, pinning him to the wall. Harry felt his hot flesh slide across the cold wall and gasped at the sensation. Oliver muttered a simple lubrication spell, and began tracing Harry's hole with two slick fingers. Harry moaned as they entered him easily and began pumping. His dick ached with anticipation, pinned between his stomach and the tiles almost painfully. Oliver added a third finger, drawing a moan from him that echoed around the showers lewdly.

"Ready, Potter?" Oliver hissed. Harry nodded, biting his lip. Oliver muttered the lubrication spell again, fisting his hard cock a few times before pulling Harry's hips toward him, canting the smaller man's body at a better angle. He slowly began to push in, their combined moans mingling in the steamy air.

"Merlin's beard, Harry..." Oliver gasped.

"Fucking, move, Wood." Harry choked out. Oliver responded with a short rock of his hips, pushing deeper and deeper into Harry until he was fully seated inside. He began to give short thrusts, pulling Harry's hips onto his with a wet slapping sound.

"Oh-oh-oh!" Harry panted as the angle brushed the head of Oliver's cock against his prostate. Oliver was groaning, keeping up the fast pace of his thrusts. Neither of them were going to last long.

"Can I pull your hair?" Wood panted into his ear, biting Harry's shoulder.

"Yes, yes!" Harry groaned. Wood's long fingers were once again buried in his unruly locks, pulling at the roots and bringing his head back, arching his back.

"That's it..." Oliver moaned. "Ride my cock, Potter."

Harry brought a hand down to his aching cock, giving it something to thrust into.

"Fuck, Ol, I'm not gonna last..."

"Oh, oh, Harry..." Wood's legs were shaking. A moment later Harry felt wet heat burst inside him. He tightened his grip on his dick and was emptying his balls against the tile wall a second later.

They stood there a moment, panting into the steamy shower. Harry's jizz was slowly dripping down the wall. Oliver pulled out, washing himself off in the shower's stream. Harry could barely feel his legs as he came down from his orgasm, unable to move his hands away from the wall as he panted. He could feel cum leaking down his leg, but his brain wasn't working well enough to clean himself up yet.

"Here, let me take care of you." Oliver rumbled. Harry felt the soap gently slide over his shoulders, around and over his chest, down to his softening cock. Oliver gently caressed the sensitive flesh there and moved down his legs, washing away the cum dripping down Harry's legs and moving up to his arse to gently rinse away the lube as well.

"Wow, Oliver." Harry finally said, his brain returning to form cohesive thought. "That was brilliant."

"Not so bad yourself." Oliver murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Harry's head. "Let's get out of the shower though, you're beginning to prune."

Harry straightened up and took an experimental step. His legs were like jelly. And he couldn't see a thing. Oliver wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him limp out of the shower to a bench.

"Accio towel." Oliver said. A clean towel soared over from the hamper and Harry gratefully accepted it. Wood went to turn off the shower and returned, pressing the damp frame of Harry's glasses into his hand. Harry put them on and was able to fully see his Captain in front of him, looking debauched. Wood's cheeks were red and his lips were swollen, a flush running down his neck and chest. Harry swallowed hard.

"Like what you see now that you can see it?" Wood asked, his eyes sparkling. Harry could now see his long length dangling between slapped-red thighs, just underneath a chiseled set of abs. Harry flushed hard.

"Hurry up and get dressed, I'm famished." Oliver said, summoning his own towel and beginning to dry his chest. "Buy you a pint and you can decide if you want to come over for more."

Harry swallowed as his thighs clenched unconsciously. That was... a tempting bargain. Wood flashed him a winning grin as he toweled his short hair.

"Make it a pint and a burger and you can have me all night." He found himself replying.

"Deal, Potter." Wood said, flashing him another grin and a devilish wink. Harry felt his stomach flip over excitedly.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, trying to keep the worst of the rain from falling on his glasses. They'd apparated into Wareham, where most of the team leased their flats. It was absolutely pouring outside, he could barely see Oliver's silhouette leading him to Old Granary, the cozy muggle pub they usually frequented.

"Alright there, Harry?" Oliver asked, barely audible over the splashing. He yanked open the pub's door.

"Blasted rain." Harry said. "Find a table, I have to get the water out of my trainers."

"I'll go after you." Wood chuckled as Harry pushed past the bar to the loo, where he could cast some covert spells on his clothes.

When Harry returned, feeling marginally less damp, two pints were sitting on the table. Oliver squeezed past to make his own trip to the loo, and Harry took a long drink from his glass, squeezing his eyes shut against the bitter taste of what was undoubtedly a Scottish brew. Oliver was forever carrying on about the fine brewing techniques of his home country, but his defense mostly fell on the deaf ears of the team, who largely preferred London Porter and firewhisky (Fireball and whiskey in muggle establishments)

"Hope you don't mind, I ordered Scottish." Oliver said into Harry's ear, returning to the table looking much drier than before.

"Of course you did." Harry teased back, taking another sip and wincing.

"I can get you an IPA..." Oliver noticed his face, looking wounded.

"I'll drain it and then get myself something else." Harry replied, hurriedly taking another sip without making a face. "I know how much you like this one."

Oliver watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he dropped his eyes to the menu. Harry felt a little bit of a sweat break out, this was already going awkwardly. Thirty minutes ago Harry was begging Oliver to rail him in the shower, and now he was panicking on how to act normal in a pub. He was going mental, absolutely mental. He began to flip through the menu, barely registering the words on the page.

"I think I fancy the fish and chips, you?" Oliver asked casually. Harry startled away from the menu, blinking rapidly.

"What?"

"Fish and chips. For supper. What are you getting?" Oliver asked, regarding him warily.

"Oh, erm, sounds great, Oliver." Harry said, having no clue what he'd just agreed to really.

"Two fish and chips then." Oliver said to the waiter who had just materialized at their side, already taking their menus.

"What?" Harry asked, watching the waiter scoot away from their table.

"Alright there, Harry?" Wood asked, reaching across the table and putting the back of his hand to his forehead. "You feel a bit warm."

"Yeah, I'm fine, Wood. I just tend to... erm, well, go to pieces with people." Harry admitted.

"Is that right? You seem fine when we're out with the others." Oliver remarked.

"That's... different. Not as intimate." Harry admitted. "I get flustered on dates."

"Don't think of it as a date, then. We're just a couple of blokes out for a pint after a long day."

"All right." Harry took a swig from his beer to quell his nerves. He was going to get tipsy if he wasn't careful.

"Are you going to go hard tonight?" Wood ask, eyeing Harry's already half-empty pint. "'m not opposed if you are. I could do with a looser evening, myself."

"S-sure." Harry stammered. "Once I get some food in I'll be good for a few rounds. All I have is practice tomorrow and that's not until afternoon."

"All right. Maybe it will calm your nerves." Oliver teased. Harry flushed and drank.

Their food arrived, along with new drinks, and they spent a happy few minutes tucking in. Harry was absolutely famished, practice had done a number on him. As they started on their chips (Harry noted that Oliver put an absurd amount of malt on his) Wood started up conversation about International teams. Germany was giving America a run for their money as they advanced up opposite sides of the bracket. America would have to beat Lichtenstein and Ireland to win, which didn't seem too likely, but they were on an unusually high-point winning streak after signing some up and coming ex-Hufflepuff trades to their Chaser squad.

"I don't know how I feel about our old boys trading to the yankees," Wood said. "Especially not the Hufflepuffs, who knew they had good Chasers? The only good player they ever had was Diggory."

Harry had been in the process of taking another drink when he startled hard enough to lose his grip, dousing his chin and lap in the cold liquid and shattering the glass on the floor.

"Merlin, shit- sorry, Harry." Wood said, face darkening. He moved around the table to hand Harry his napkin and pick up the larger chunks of glass.

"It's not your fault." Harry said unhappily. "I just tend to forget, and then hearing his name brings it all back." He mopped his face with the napkin and looked at his soaked trousers. "I need to go to the loo for a moment and get some water on this."

Oliver dogged Harry's heels to the loo, leaving the bartender to sweep up the glass under the table.

"Harry, I really am sorry." Oliver said earnestly.

"I know. I'm not upset." Harry replied. He pulled his wand out and cast a cleaning charm on his pants, followed by a drying spell. He looked up to see Oliver's eyes fixed on his hand, wand, and crotch all in the same proximity.

"Help you?" Harry asked. Oliver's dark eyes flicked up to his, and then faster than Harry could really process, Oliver was pushing him into the edge of the sink, warm lips against his. This kiss was just as heated as the ones earlier, the alcohol making Wood's movements slightly sloppier, wetter, harder. Harry moaned.

"Listen, Wood-" Harry gasped between kisses. "Plans-ah! Plans tonight?" Wood didn't reply, just began making his way down Harry's neck, nipping and licking while he cradled the back of Harry's head in a firm grip.

"I want you to ride me like you ride that pretty Firebolt of yours, if you can call that a plan." Wood said against his Adam's apple before biting a pulse point. Harry stopped himself from making a pornographic moan in reply.

"Anything you like, Wood. Just don't get us thrown out of this pub for fucking on the bathroom sink."

"Deal." Oliver said, pulling away and adjusting his jeans. "Let's get out of here."

They made their way back out to their table and Oliver dropped a few muggle bills on the table before draining the last of his drink.

"Let's go to my place, I have some things there if we want to keep drinking." Oliver said, nodding to the bartender and hustling Harry out the door.

Wood's flat was on the same block as the pub, above a brand-new Rexall and a shuttered Chinese takeout. Harry dripped on the landing while Wood fumbled with the lock, his hair soaked through from the few minutes they'd spent in the downpour, which showed no signs of letting up.

Harry had only been to Wood's flat once before, when he'd hosted the team for an emergency strategy session against the Harpies. Quidditch posters hung on the hallway walls, the ones from their most recent matches joining ones from Wood's Hogwarts days and a couple vintage prints. Harry shrugged out of his cloak again and cast a drying charm on it before divesting himself of his trainers and applying the same charm to them. Wood hadn't turned on any electric lights, so Harry lit his wand before venturing down the dark hallway to the living room.

Illuminated by his wand, the rest of the flat looked the same as Harry remembered except for a tiny television that now lived between the bookshelves across from the wide sofa. Oliver had every Quidditch manual known to wizardkind on the shelves in the living room, and it was like he'd memorized the contents of all of them. Above the sofa was a large Scottish tapestry depicting Oliver's house crest, a ship inside a belt with the words "Tudus In Undus" in rolling stitched script.

"Incendio." Wood muttered at the small woodstove in the corner. A cheerful warmth began to permeate through the chilly flat, the flames creating flickering patterns on the dark walls. Harry extinguished his wand and admired Oliver's silhouette as he warmed his hands at the stove.

"There's firewhisky, spiced mead, and spiced rum in the cabinet left of the fridge, cider to mix with in the fridge, glasses to the left of that one. Help yourself." Oliver said, noticing Harry staring.

"Alright, what would you like?" Harry asked.

"Firewhisky and cider, if you like." Oliver replied.

Harry busied himself with the drinks, leaving the alcohol out on the counter. He sniffed the spiced rum and decided to add a bit to his firewhisky, topping both drinks off with the cold cider.

"I'm no bartender, but these smell delicious." He said, bringing the glasses back to the coffee table and folding himself into a spot on the couch. His shoulders gave an ache of protest for the first time since the showers. He had been stiffening back up throughout dinner but had been too occupied to notice much.

"Cheers." Oliver offered his glass to clink. Harry accepted and took a drink of his, raising his eyebrows at the strong taste. He needed to go slow on this one or he'd be a drunk mess in no time. Oliver was watching him intently, eyes bright in the firelight.

"Now, where were we, Potter?"

Harry's mouth went dry, despite just having taken another sip of his drink.

"Erm, heh, well... Um, right here, er, Captain."

Wood set his glass down and kneeled next to Harry on the couch. Harry quickly set his own cup down as well. Oliver grabbed his chin and brought their lips together, and the taste of firewhisky flooded Harry senses. One hand settled on Oliver's waist, hitching up his jumper just a little to hold onto the thick muscle above his hip. The other hand came to rest on Wood's chest.

Oliver deepened the kiss, running his tongue along Harry's bottom lip. Harry opened his mouth and allowed Oliver to explore his mouth, twining their tongues together. He'd never really been frenched before, but Wood was much less slobbery than the last partner he'd had who liked it. It was something he could get used to. Wood pulled his tongue away and bit at Harry's lower lip, sucking it into his own mouth and making Harry groan.

"Merlin, the noises you make, Harry..." Wood panted before diving in for more, nipping and sucking at his lips eagerly. Harry felt himself flush, but hardly stopped the moans that escaped his throat as Wood's lips attacked his.

Oliver pushed Harry onto his back on the couch, covering his smaller body with his as he came back for another kiss. He began to skillfully grind their hips together, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get harry hot and bothered in the best way. Oliver's rough hand pushed under Harry's shirt, pulling it up and over his head with barely a break between kisses. Harry panted in the firelight, looking up at Wood's shut eyes as he came in for another round of snogging.

Merlin, not even in his dreams would he ever have thought this would be how he spent his Wednesday night after Quidditch practice... He'd fantasized about members of the team before, but never Oliver Wood. He'd figured Oliver would be off-limits due to their past history together at Hogwarts. But now...

"Harry?" Oliver asked, hovering over him. He'd noticed Harry's wide open eyes.

"Erm, sorry. Got lost in my thoughts. Didn't need to be staring at you like a mooncalf." Harry muttered.

"If you're uncomfortable, we can stop." Oliver said.

"No, no, Ol. Only thing I'm uncomfortable with is these tight jeans." Harry said before pulling Oliver down for another kiss. "Take 'em off, will you?"

"Crikey, I would have never in a million years thought I'd have Harry Potter on my sofa, asking for me to undress him." Oliver said, chuckling. He kissed down Harry's chest and then unzipped his fly and quickly divested Harry of the offending jeans before standing to take off his own.

"You- You're not going to make this weird, are you?" Harry asked. "Please let this not just be some sort of long-term fan worship scenario."

"No, of course not, Harry. I've fancied having you take a ride on my cock since Hogwarts, but since that's nasty I've just been waiting till you came around. Has nothing to do with the name."

"If you say so." Harry replied.

"I promise. My attraction has nothing to do with your celebrity. I would rather be accused of wanting to bang you because you look like your dad, the famous Quidditch player."

Harry had just been about to steal a quick sip of his drink and promptly spat it onto the coffee table.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, blinking owlishly at Oliver. "You want to bang me because I look like my old man?"

"No, I don't want you because of your dad's Quidditch trophy." Oliver laughed. "I want you because you're you."

"Oh, great. Because I look like an underfed git with terrible eyesight and untamable hair. And I'm awkward as hell to boot."

"Shove it, you." Oliver growled, coming in for another kiss. "Just let me have my way with you."

"Yessir." Harry gasped as their bodies met.

Oliver attacked Harry's lips, pressing his head into the sofa. Harry chased his lips, trying to keep up with the intensity of his kisses.

"You - unh - feel so good." Oliver panted as he ground their hips together and ran his hand down Harry's neck to his chest. Oliver's body was insanely warm against his, and the friction from their boxers against each other was electrifying.

"Oh, Ol." Harry panted as Oliver tweaked his nipples while moving down to nip at his neck. Oliver worked the sensitive skin of his neck and shoulder with open mouth kisses followed by bites and little suckles. Harry was so hard it almost hurt.

Suddenly, Oliver flipped them so Harry was on top. Their boxers vanished with a mutter of Oliver's wandless magic.

"I want you to ride me, Potter." Wood growled, arching up to capture Harry's lips once more. Harry didn't have a verbal reply, only let out a moan. Oliver answered by casting his lubrication charm wandlessly and running his slippery length against Harry's opening, making Harry arch his back in pleasure.

Oliver circled Harry's now-slick opening with a thick finger, sliding inside and slowly stretching Harry open. Harry reciprocated by grinding down on Oliver's hand, enjoying the feeling of his fingers working him open.

"C'mon Ol, I need you." Harry whined. Oliver obliged by lining them up and letting Harry drop onto his length, getting a loud moan from Harry as Oliver bottomed out.

"Ready, Potter?" Oliver asked after a moment. Harry nodded, bracing himself on Oliver's built pecs and giving an experimental rock forwards. Oliver grabbed his hips and guided him, rocking him back and forth. Harry let out a guttural moan at the feeling of Oliver sliding in and out of him.

"That's it, keep moaning while I bounce you on my hard cock." Oliver growled, arching up to suck on one of Harry's nipples. Harry obliged with a high moan. Oliver was slapping their hips together faster and faster.

"I'm- uhn - I'm not gonna last..." Harry panted.

"Come for me." Oliver said, casting the lubrication charm on one of his hands and wrapping a tight grip around Harry's shaft. Harry was over the edge in seconds, splattering the man below him in spurts of cum. Wood took one look at the puddles of semen pooling on his abs and came as well, flooding Harry with warmth.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, breathing hard.

"Damn, Wood." Harry choked out. His captain looked utterly defiled underneath him, cheeks red and Harry's cum covering his muscular chest.

"Same to you, Potter. Think you can move after that solid fucking?" Oliver smirked.

"Yeah..." Harry lifted himself up, feeling a dribble of jizz slide down his leg.

"Down on your hands and knees, Potter." Wood guided him back down to the sofa.

"What? Wait, Wood-" Harry was cut off as Oliver slowly slid his tongue up the inside of his thigh.

"Relax, I'm just cleaning you up." Oliver said as he laved his tongue up Harry's crack before pulling his cheeks apart.

"Oh, Merlin, I've never- agh!" Harry yelped as Oliver licked his rim, diving his tongue inside and cleaning up all the evidence of his own release.

Oliver gently caressed Harry's balls, licking all over his opening and taint. Harry's cock jumped, sensitive from his orgasm but somehow still aroused.

"Eager for more, Potter?" Wood teased, sliding a finger into him and crooking it, hitting Harry's overstimulated sweet spot.

"Oh, fuck..." Harry whined. "I'm still- agh!"

"You did say you'd be mine all night if I bought you dinner." Wood teased, easing his fingers out of Harry and pressing a kiss to one of his cheeks. "Turn over."

Harry flopped onto his back, feeling like a ragdoll. Wood was kneeling over him, firelight catching the dripping pools of cum slowly rolling down his abs. The older man was already hard again, how was that possible. He was fisting his sizable length and watching Harry through half-lidded eyes. As Harry looked on he caught a little dribble of cum and put it to his mouth, moaning deep in his throat. Harry swallowed reflexively, feeling his cock jump again at the sight of his captain jerking himself off above him.

"Can I help?" Harry asked. Wood grinned and offered his cock to him. Harry swallowed again and sat up. He was rubbish at blowjobs, but maybe Oliver could teach him a few tricks.

"I warn you, I'm not very good." Harry said.

"Give it a go, just mind the teeth." Wood replied. Harry opened his mouth and Wood gently thrust inside. It tasted like lube and cum and little bit of a spicy aftertaste. Harry took a deep breath and focused on not gagging, letting Oliver set the pace. Oliver grabbed his hair none too gently, making Harry moan around the base of his cock.

"Just like that." Oliver said, speeding up the pace. "I don't mind if you gag a little, just don't choke."

Harry let his throat relax, allowing Wood deeper access. He kept up moaning, covering up his occasional gag.

"Merlin, you have such a pretty mouth." Wood groaned. "I'm gonna cum. You decide where I finish."

Harry clamped down, sucking on Wood's length as cum flooded his mouth. It overwhelmed him a little and he withdrew, letting Wood's last few spurts land on his face.

"Bloody hell..." Wood panted. Harry swallowed and wiped his mouth, eyes watering a little. Wood pulled his chin up for another kiss, gentler this time. The older man gently licked the cum off Harry's face before giving him another peck on the lips.

"Fancy a shower and then bed?" Oliver asked, taking in Harry's dazed appearance. "I can help you with that." Harry looked down at his cock, which was somehow standing at attention again.

"How do you do it, Mate? One orgasm and I'm ready to drop."

"Your cock begs to differ." Oliver chuckled, standing and offering Harry his hands. Harry stood shakily. "It's all practice though."

"Amazing. I'd never have thought that after your NEWTS you'd be out here in Dorset on a sex-fest." Harry replied dryly.

"I'd have thought that would have been your post-school plan." Wood teased.

"Shove it, Wood. Help me get clean and rested and then you can get back on your teasing. You didn't take a bludger and a nosedive in the mud today, not to mention a wood bench to the neck and a horny keeper to your arse twice."

"All right, all right." Oliver laughed, leaning in for another kiss before leading Harry to the bathroom for a shower. "But don't think I'm done with you yet."


End file.
